Monday, May 22, 2000
3:30 PM
There are so many things in and about the universe that you cannot even begin to imagine–that is, of course, until you begin to imagine anything at all. For, in actuality, there isn’t anything that is intrinsically obvious. Most things that can be percieved through the senses are regarded as “obvious”, but even if seeing is believeing, what you see isn’t necessarily what’s actually there. If you see a square you cannot be sure that you’re looking at a cube straight on. And if you see the cube, you cannot be sure that that’s all there is. What we can see (and touch and smell and taste and hear) is a miniscule piece of the big picture. Even after looking at something from all the angles (visually or mentally), there are still vantage points that you can never see from and so whatever information you’ve gathered is always incomplete.
I wish that what I’m attempting to express here could be easier for me to convey. One could argue that I’m using too sophisticated a vocabulary, particularly for a lay person, but the problem is that it’s my vocabulary that limits me from fully articulating what it is I’m trying to communicate. It’s frustrating.
I want everybody to see that the world we live in is nowhere nearly as limited as it might seem. That despite death and our lifelong imprisonment in our own skulls, there is so much that can be learned and experienced in such a relatively short time and with the small amount of data we recieve from our surroundings. Thinking “out of the box” just puts you into another box, but after a while you notice that these boxes make up the surface of a whole different sort of box. And it regresses infinitely.
Aside from temporal constraints on our lives, our imaginations also have their limits. But it doesn’t necessarily mean that we can’t forever explore the endless depths of what there is to know. That’s what technology is for. We can construct tools that have sensory abilities greater than ours, and have those tools filter it down so we can see something. What we get at our end may not contain the full richness of the original article, but we do still get an enlightening glimpse. And that’s usually all it takes to fuel the fires of our imagination.
So, when you do finally begin to comprehend what exists in the world unseen, keep in mind that you cannot finish comprehending it. It goes on forever, but we don’t. By then it doesn’t matter, though. What matters most is now, and the importance of everything else tapers off towards the distant reaches of space and time, in all directions—including past and future. Therefore, death—our own personal boundary of space and time–matters the least. As does our birth. We’re here, right now, so let’s all deal with it. Together.